


Wherein Jim is an asshole

by kayliemalinza



Series: Rambleverse [13]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Years (Rambleverse Timeline), F/M, Gen, Kayliemalinza's Rambleverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-04
Updated: 2009-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and McCoy fill out paperwork for their new lives as Starfleet cadets. McCoy bursts into tears. Jim doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherein Jim is an asshole

McCoy, Leonard McCoy, got divorced last Tuesday and still has his house key on a ring in his pocket. Jim finds this out when they're shooed into the Admissions and Acquisitions office after the shuttle lands and McCoy, slouching against a wall like he's going to slide down it any second and leave a grease stain, pats himself down looking for a form of photo ID and comes up with the key instead. There's a projecting memento cylinder hanging from the ring. It's a tiny one that holds just a couple of images, more if they're small, and Jim knows this because his mother had one.

Her ring had keys for their farmhouse, the car, and a bus station locker in Peru (she hasn't explained that yet, even though he's definitely "older" now) and the cylinder had two pictures of his father that Jim clicked back and forth between, watching the face of a man he never knew flicker translucently against the car window. He remembers the eyes would disappear into the sky if it were the right shade of blue and after a while, his mother would reach over and take the cylinder away. "Don't wear it out, sweetheart," she'd say, and curl her slim, soft fingers around his chubby hand.

Jim doesn't know what pictures are on McCoy's memento cylinder but he looks like he needs someone to hold his hand. Unfortunately, the yeoman behind the desk is too busy frowning at her console screen to notice and Jim doesn't do that kind of thing, thanks, so the guy just stares at the key ring for a few minutes then crumples slowly to the floor. He doesn't leave a grease stain but his heavy jacket does ride up in the back, proving that the geometric pattern on that sweater does, in fact, go all the way down. McCoy puts his head on his knees and wraps his arms around them like he can make a fort out of himself. The key ring clinks as his fingers curl and uncurl and the noise almost covers up the muffled sobs.

_Welcome to Starfleet, cadet!_ thinks Jim, and goes back to filling out admissions forms.

He's just finished with the dull and tedious section (DoB, mother's maiden name, father's occupation, all titillating factoids which Jim is sure Captain Pike has tattooed across his weathered ass) and moved on to the annoying and misleading section (level of education, current income, have you ever been convicted of a felony? check yes or no. if yes, please explain: "They see me rollin', they hatin'....") when the back door to the office slides open and Pike comes in, scowling at the PADD in his hand even more fiercely than the yeoman had.

He stops short and stares at the sloppy pile of new recruit in the corner of the room.

"Clean up on aisle three," Jim says cheerily. Pike gives him a look like he wants to beat Jim with a belt and tell him to grow the fuck up, and Jim smiles. He gets that look a lot. It's comforting, like footie pajamas.

Pike rolls his eyes and then summarily ejects Jim from his mental queue. He strides over to McCoy and hauls him up by the arm. McCoy's boots scrabble on the floor for a second, but Pike is stronger than he looks and holds him steady until he gets his balance.

McCoy starts to mumble something but Pike cuts him off with a gruff platitude and frog marches him to the door, making promises about getting him a drink of water and then figuring out this problem with the paperwork. McCoy lets himself be dragged along and while Jim sympathizes that this guy is having a bad day, he's also betting McCoy isn't going to be command track.

The yeoman watches them go with a look of mild shock on her face even though Jim would guess that, given Pike's recruiting habits, Admissions and Acquisitions gets miserable drunk bastards traipsing through twice a week. The door slides shut behind them and she starts to turn back to her console. She catches Jim looking at her and pauses, watching him right back with eyes that are just a little too big, a little too metallic to be human.

"Hey, how's it going," he says with a winning grin. She just blinks at him so he puts on his serious face and adds, "Did you know your insignia brings out the color in your eyes?"

She reapplies herself to her console screen with an indignant sniff. Jim grins to himself and taps over to the next section of the form. _Three years, no sweat,_ he thinks. _I got this._


End file.
